


Funny How Love Is

by rikustark



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Brian is literally a mother hen, Drunk Kisses, First Kiss, Grinding, John is the definition of bi panic, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, bi john, bi roger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 11:02:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17641541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rikustark/pseuds/rikustark
Summary: Queen's recording their second album, and John has it bad for Roger. Little does he know, Roger has it just as bad for him.





	Funny How Love Is

C. 1973

John had a problem.

They were in the middle of recording their second album. The March of the Black Queen had turned into Freddie’s little pet project, and John had lost track of how many hours they’d spent on the song already.

John wouldn’t admit why he was still in the studio. He had finished his bass bits for the song, and with a well aimed excuse he could bow out of the recording process for the day. Freddie, Brian, and Roger were sufficiently capable without him. A small part of him niggled at that fact; Freddie and Brian were always so involved with the songwriting and recording process, and Roger….well, he never let his voice go unheard.

No, John wasn’t all that particularly bothered that he was Queen’s very own quintessential, quiet bass player. He was perfectly fine with his place in the band and was content with picking up the slack on the more technical side of things. This wasn’t John’s problem.  

He just wished, deep down, that he got more recognition for the quiet things that he did, particularly from one sprightly drummer.

“Freddie,” Roger whined, “I’m sung out.”

“Now dear, stop being a baby. Just a few more; it has to be perfect.”

“It’s already perfect,” grumbled Roger as he turned his head back towards the recording mic, bowing his head and licking his lips. John couldn’t help but stare at the singular strand of blond hair that stuck to his pursed, wet lips.

Freddie waved his hand upward, signaling for Roger to start.

_“My life is in your hands, I’ll fo and I’ll fie_ ”

John could feel Freddie humming next to him. “Oh that’s it,” Freddie said softly.

_Yes_ , John thought. _That’s it_.

Indeed, John had a problem.

~

“I’m getting bloody pissed tonight,” Roger said as he, Brian, and John entered a pub they’d been haunting while recording the album. Freddie had abandoned them for a date with Mary (“Don’t forget! 7 o’clock _sharp_ tomorrow”).

“You’re in a mood,” Brian said simply, weaving his way over to their usual spot in the back.

“When isn’t he in a mood,” John said dryly.

“Oi! We worked our asses off today, and my throat feels like fucking sandpaper,” Roger said as he sat down, rubbing a hand up and down his neck.

“Perhaps a glass of water,” John suggested coyly as he took his seat, causing Roger to reach over and lightly punch him in the arm.

“Careful Rog, we still have two songs left to record, and the last thing we need is for our drummer to die of alcohol poisoning,” Brian said.

“Psh. After recording that odyssey,” Roger pulled out a cigarette, slid it in his mouth, and lit it up, “we could probably record just about anything in our sleep now,” he said through a puff of smoke.

Brian expelled an annoyed tut but didn’t press the matter.

“Deaky, you’ll get drunk with me won’t you?” Roger was pouting, and John mentally cursed him for being a demon disguised as an angel with his halo-like hair illuminated by the dim pub lighting.

“Oh no, you’re not pulling him into this,” Brian said, “and, smoking isn’t going to help your throat, you know.” Roger rolled his eyes.

“What do I get out of it?” John said while pulling out his own cigarette. Brian threw his arms up, simmering (“Why do I even bother!”).

“My undying loyalty,” Roger said smoothly. Brian choked (either on the smoke or Roger’s reply. Both. Probably both).

John didn’t say anything but rather rolled his eyes upward. There was a small grin on his face when he looked back down at Roger who returned John’s grin with a playful smile. Roger immediately bounced out of his chair.

“First round on me!”

“I’m going to have to explain to Fred why we’re down a rhythm section in the morning, aren’t I?” Brian huffed.

Roger was already ambling back with the drinks, exaggerating the sway of his hips as he moved pass chairs, tables, and people. John pictured his hands on those hips.  

_God_ , John thought, _I’m hopeless_.

~

Roger wasn’t entirely as drunk as he was letting on. He hung languidly on Brian’s right arm as Brian dragged him up the stairs towards the flat that they shared. He was going to have a bit of fun.  

“You have poodle hair, Brian.”

“Poodle hair Brian, poodle hair Brian,” John chanted through soft giggles on Brian’s left arm.

Roger responded with an exuberant “yip!” in encouragement. Alright, maybe he was as drunk as he was letting on, but his heart was soaring. He loved being the catalyst to John’s laughter.

“Oh, lord you two,” Brian said as he pushed the two of them into the flat, regretting his decision to keep the two together when he could’ve dropped John off at his flat. For some reason he thought this would be easier.

John immediately went to sprawl himself out on the couch, making himself at home, and Roger face planted into the rug, deciding that the tufts on the rug felt really nice on his face.

“I’m going to bed,” Brian said tersely as he observed the scene in front of him.

“I’m goin tof beff,” Roger mimicked into the rug.

“God, you’re literally a child,” Brian said, and Roger picked up his head and stuck out his tongue. “I’m going to bed,” Brian repeated, “keep it down out here, don’t puke on the rug, and only wake me up if you’re dying,” and with that, Brian left.

Roger promptly pulled John down to the rug who was in the middle of another fit of laughter. They both propped themselves up against the couch.

“Deaky, Deaky, Deaky,” Roger said while petting John’s hair. _It was so, so soft_. He briefly wondered how John’s hair would feel against his face.

“Rog, what are you doing,” John had stopped laughing and turned curiously towards Roger.

_Oh, fuck_ , Roger thought deliriously, _he’s cute_.

“Your eyes are so pretty,” John spoke first.

Roger hummed softly. He couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or the compliment that made his face hot but suddenly John’s arm and leg brushing against his burned.

_Be cool_ , he thought.

“It’s how I get all the girls,” Roger said conspiratorially, winking by scrunching up the whole right side of his face.

_Oh, bollocks._

_~_

_Your eyes are so pretty._

_Your eyes are so pretty._

_Your eyes are so pretty._

“It’s how I get all the girls.”

John wanted to shrink into himself. He felt irredeemably stupid; the fire of hope that kindled quietly in his stomach was extinguished. Roger liked girls, he always liked girls. Meanwhile, John was the definition of bi panic.

_This is it_ , he thought. _I’m never drinking again. I’m quitting Queen-_

“Deaky?” Roger said suddenly, interrupting his thoughts.

“Yes, Roger,” John said blandly. He could feel Roger’s body turn towards his. John had moved his gaze towards the ceiling. There was a crack that resembled an outline of a cat. _I need to show Freddie that someday_ , John thought miserably. God, he was tired.

Roger released a long breath and continued to pet John’s hair. John couldn’t help but side-eye him after a prolonged silence. Roger was looking at John, but John could tell he looked spaced.

“Yes, Roger?” John said more fiercely, annoyed.

“Have you ever kissed a bloke before?” Roger rushed out.

“No,” John choked out. _What?_

“Have you ever thought about kissing a bloke before?” Roger was picking at the tufts of the rug as he said this, tearing some out in the process. Brian was going to have a fit.

“Yes,” John said flatly.

Maybe it was the alcohol that prompted his honesty, but John didn’t feel like lying. _He knows, and he probably thinks I’m a freak._

“Oh, okay,” Roger said casually, like a doctor taking notes on his patient.

John was really, really tired.

“John?” Roger said.

John closed his eyes. Maybe if he didn’t say anything Roger would think he’s sleeping.

John felt Roger shift; there was a hot breath on John’s face before he felt lips press stiffly against his. They were there for a second before pulling away.

John’s eyes shot open. He gave himself a moment.

“What was that?” he said dumbly.

Silence. John turned slightly towards Roger. _Bloody hell_ , John thought. _He passed out._  

John looked at Roger’s lips and suddenly found himself in a delirious fit of laughter, only noticing the smirk on Roger’s face after he caught his breath.

It was that smirk that pushed him forward. John picked himself up from his slouch against the couch and hovered nervously over Roger; he noticed Roger’s body tense.

“Sleeping Beauty,” John whispered, chuckling.

He leaned forward until he was almost nose to nose with Roger, and in a fit of what must of been impatience, Roger opened his eyes.

“Oh,” Roger said softly.

John leaned further, pushing his lips softly against Roger’s. They both remained motionless, but John’s heart was beating through his chest. _Oh, god._

_Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god._

John was so lost in his own panic that he didn’t initially feel Roger’s restless response beneath him. It started slow, testing, and Roger relaxed with a satisfied “mmm” before sucking on John’s lower lip.

_Move._

John parted his lips, and Roger unabashedly moaned into his mouth. His dick twitched in response. _Oh, fuck me._ John deepened the kiss and moved his hand on top of Roger’s upper thigh. John felt Roger keen his hips upward in response.

Roger fervently scooched up, careful not to break the kiss, and pushed his hands into John’s hair, tugging softly to keep his balance, but John moved himself over Roger’s body to push the smaller man down.

John rocked his hips against Roger and had to stifle a moan with his hand as his growing erection pressed against Roger’s already bulging length.

“John!” Roger groaned, not caring to stay quiet lest Brian decided to investigate the commotion. He moved to suck slowly down John’s neck, moaning all the while his grip on John’s hair tightened.

John buried his pleas into Roger’s hair as they continued to rock their hips against each other. The last thing John wanted was to be caught, fully debauched, by a disgruntled Brian.

“I’m going to come,” Roger whimpered as John picked up the pace. He knew he was close, too.  

Roger tensed beneath him and let out a series of loud moans that John proceeded to catch with his mouth, and Roger greedily took him in. John rocked earnestly against Roger’s shuddering form, hands gripping the couch in front of him.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Roger soothed urgently after they broke their kiss causing John to arch up in a silent wail.

Roger softly kissed at the welts he left on John’s neck as he came down, humming contently.

“You wouldn’t by chance have a spare pair of pants,” John said weakly.

~

Roger had a killer headache. He woke up to find John gone and half wondered if he’d dreamt it all. Roger buried himself in his covers.

“Get up!” Brian barreled into his room, “We need to leave for the studio in fifteen minutes.”

“Where’s Deaky?” Roger croaked.

Brian shrugged, “I don’t know. He was gone before I was up; suspect he went back to his for a fresh pair of clothes.”

Roger nearly flinched, but Brian gave no sign that he’d heard the two of them last night. Brian looked how he usually looked at Roger: annoyed and amused.

“And really? The rug? It’s not grass you know, it’s not going to grow back.”

If only Brian knew Roger nearly deflowered that very rug.

~

At the studio, Roger was having a hard time of it trying to decide if what he thought happened last night actually happened.

John was carefully avoiding his eye throughout the whole session, so he suspected that yes, he wasn’t totally losing it.

Roger had a hard time admitting it to himself, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t totally smitten with their bass player the moment he auditioned for the band with his keen, clever eyes and juxtaposing smile. Roger knew he wasn’t gay, but he never discounted his feelings towards men. Hell, he had a crush on Brian during the early days of Smile.

Brian and Freddie didn’t seem to notice anything wrong between their two bandmates. They were too caught up in the music to only care if they were doing their sets properly. Freddie did, however, notice Roger’s love bites on John’s neck.

“Deaky, it looks like you’ve been mauled by a lion, darling,” Freddie said mischievously.

John’s face went an adorable shade of pink.

“I-uh..well-” John stuttered.

Freddie gingerly rubbed John’s back, “It’s alright dear - Roger deserves a little competition; he can’t pick up all the birds.”

_Oh, it was definitely not a dream._

Brian looked at John like he was trying to puzzle something out. He looked over at Roger as if to say “When in the night could that have possibly happened?”

_Think on it a little longer, Bri. You’ll get there_ , Roger thought glumly.

~

John loved playing music, he loved making music, but he’d rather be anywhere else right now.

John was hanging out near the back of the studio on the couch; he was watching Freddie record his vocals while Brian worked with him.

_“_ _Funny how love is everywhere just look and see_

_Funny how lov_ _e is anywhere you're bound to be_

_Funny how love is every song in every key”_

Roger sidled up beside him, “Was it that bad?”

“Your drumming was perfect, as always,” John said thickly.

_“Funny how love is coming home in time for tea_

_Funny funny funny oh_

_Funny how love is the end of the lies”_

“What? No! John, don’t play coy with me,” Roger said indignantly, the pitch of his voice going up several octaves as he spoke. Roger let out a breath. “I’m sorry I kissed you, and I’m sorry...for everything else, too.”

John let out a shuddering breath. He knew it. John was just a curious little thing for Roger to play with.

_“When the truth begins tomorrow comes_

_Tomorrow brings tomorrow brings love_

_In the shape of things_

_That's what love is that's what love is”_

“Don’t lose sleep over it,” John attempted to sound even. “I won’t-”

“John can you just look at me,” Roger interrupted, a twinge of desperation in his voice.

_“Funny how love can break your heart so suddenly_

_Funny how love came tumbling down with Adam and Eve_

_Funny how love is running wild feeling free”_

When John finally looked up at him, John could imagine that Roger saw something broken in him. There was the initial feeling of contentment after his makeout and grind session with Roger, but after Roger let him borrow some pants and promptly passed out in his own bed, John’s mind immediately started buzzing. He knew that for Roger what they did meant nothing; John was just there to satiate Roger’s desire to be wanted. Even worse, a small part of John had this kindling feeling of guilt for taking advantage of his friend while he was drunk, despite the fact that he was drunk himself and Roger initiated it all to begin with.   

John felt used yet also ashamed for what he did. Mostly he was just sad.

“John,” Roger said softly, “Your eyes are so pretty.”

_“Funny how love is coming home in time for tea_

_Funny funny funny oh_

_From the earth below to the heavens above”_

John scoffed and looked away. _He’s mocking me now._

“No!” Roger said urgently as if he realized his mistake. “No,” he said again almost silently. “Deaky….John, I think - I mean, I know -,” Roger stuttered to a stop and looked about ready to rip his hair out.

_“That's how far and funny is love_

_At any time anywhere_

_If you gotta make love do it everywhere_

_That's what love is that's what love is”_

“Just say what you want to say Roger, just say that it was a mistake,” _just put me out of my misery, please_.

“It wasn’t!” Roger said desperately.

_“Funny how love is everywhere just look and see_

_Funny how love is anywhere you're bound to be_

_Funny how love is every song in every key”_

“John, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you,” said Roger, finally.

John turned towards Roger, “What,-”

_“Funny how love is when you gotta hurry_

_'Cause you're late for tea_

_Funny funny funny oh”_

“I love making you laugh,” Roger said lamely. “I love how your eyes crinkle and your whole body just scrunches together. I love your silent glares - when they’re not directed at me, mind. I love how hard you try even when you know, well,  when you think no one can see you, and John,” Roger takes a moment, “I love your eyes.”

_“Tomorrow comes tomorrow brings_

_Tomorrow brings love in the shape of things_

_At any time anywhere”_

“I love your eyes, too,” John said weakly.

Roger let go of a startled, relieved laugh, “Oh, I know-,” and then John was kissing him.

_“If you gotta make love do it everywhere_

_That's what love is that's--_ -fucking hell! _"_

“Oi! Fred, you were nearly at the end! What are yo-oh.”

John and Roger eventually broke apart and were met with the shocked faces of their two bandmates.

“Oh,” Brian said breathlessly, as if he just figured something out.

“Well, darlings, I think you stole the show,” said Freddie with a smile.

John couldn’t help it, he laughed, and Roger never wanted to look away.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh yikes! This is my first Queen centric fic, and I'll admit I'm a little rusty with my writing! I'm a sucker for John and Roger. I just think John is the sweetest bean. Hope you like it! Please leave kudos or a comment if you enjoyed.


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